Blood, soil and mavericks.

Walking with Kate last Sunday on a rare warm and sunny day of late and we’re walking around Lulworth Cove, we see many butterflies including the nationally rare but now locally common Lulworth skipper:


Across the valley we see some houses, one of which I briefly went to for some lessons in water colour painting. Kate asks why I don’t take it up again as she thinks I’m good at painting. I say that the urge, the will or whatever is not within me, even when I get positive feedback such as from Kate. And now, listening to Sam Harris talking with David Brooks about becoming a better person:   I think back to my discussion with Kate. What is it that motivates us to do stuff?

I worked as a teacher for many years, motivated by the monthly pay and the need to support family and also in the belief that I was doing some good. And yet I often railed against ‘the system’ (actually there are many systems in education, many poorly understood and certainly poorly practiced especially by those higher up the systems). I’d get wound up by governmental diktat, senior managerial diktat, and the declining size of kitkats. I found myself doing so much that was not improving either my teaching or wasn’t actually for the benefit of the students. So why didn’t I try and move up the managerial system and maybe try and change things from a position of relative power?

I made a couple of half-hearted attempts at promotion but it must have been obvious to others I wasn’t playing the game and they knew I’d be a gritty twat in their unctuous milieu. Although I have to write that I did once make a serious attempt and even bought a new suit and tie, didn’t suit me.

What I did do was hold on to my principles as much as possible and apply them within the little domain that was my classroom. Apparently the then head told someone who was coming into my classroom as an assistant that I was a ‘maverick but I got results’.  Being the perceptive managers they were they never bothered to think about, let alone analyse, why I ‘got results’.

So, as drumf and brexit spread their toxins I briefly think about a term the racist twats use: blood and soil. It comes from the nazis “blut and boden” and refers to ethnicity based on bloodlines and territory. So those who espouse this distorted bollocks should really apply it and fuck off back to the primeval swamp from whence we came. Might also explain their warped mindsets as their blood has been poisoned by stuff in the soil.

And now, what’s that coming over the hill bearing his soiled old etonian blood, it’s a rees-mogg, and a prime example of how a quota system vis a vis rebalancing our society with 7% of ‘top jobs’ going to the privately educated would have prevented such a bigoted twerp come within baying distance of the premiership. A maverick masquerader indeed who no supporter of the nanny state owes much to his own childhood nanny.

Oh what a good job the tts have done eh? They and their media mates have poisoned our soil even more and already have blood on their grubby little hands.


Keep on keeping on, love Duncan.




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